


Mr. Carisi

by keraunoscopia



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Family, Fluff, M/M, Mental Health Issues, References to Depression, Religion, minor death mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-23 03:29:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12497720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keraunoscopia/pseuds/keraunoscopia
Summary: “I believe that what we become depends on what our fathers teach us at odd moments, when they aren't trying to teach us. We are formed by little scraps of wisdom.” ― Umberto Eco, Foucault's Pendulum





	Mr. Carisi

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty much pure family fluff with a side helping of Barisi. Hope you don't hate it.

Dominick Carisi is a large man. At six foot five, he has to duck in doorways and watch out for low hanging branches. He’s built like a tree, thick, rooted, towering. He’s a mechanic, has been working on big rigs for the last forty years, and a little arthritis in his knees isn’t about to stop him. He comes home every day in his coveralls, covered in grime and grease. Really, his presence should be intimidating. 

At first, he was intimidating, to Rafael Barba at least. And Rafael is not the sort of person who intimidates easily, he’s the type of person who announces his address on live TV after receiving death threats, he’s the type of person who goads a serial rapist into choking him in open court. Surely the father of Dominick “call me Sonny” Carisi can’t be that much more intimidating. 

Still, the first time Sonny brings Rafael home for Sunday dinners at his Ma’s house, the ADA can barely keep his nerves together. He’s met Mrs. Carisi before, she has visited the station from time to time. She’s scary in her own way, in the “if you tell me no I’ll hit you upside the head with my slipper” kind of way, in the “don’t you dare tell me you’re not hungry” sort of way. But its Mr. Carisi who opens the door, taking up the whole frame. Rafael has to swallow the lump in his throat, because Mr. Carisi is the sort of man who could pop him like a grape. 

He makes a mental note to reaffirm the fact that he will never, never do anything to hurt Sonny.

But Mr. Carisi gives them both a warm smile and gives Sonny a bone crushing hug before turning to Rafael. “So glad to finally meet the man my son has been talking about non-stop for years,” he’s got that same accent as Sonny, just twinged with a little more Italian bravado, and he pulls Rafael into a hug as well. Rafael freezes, in his list of possible ways of how this meeting would go, this didn’t even cross his mind, and he’s never felt so small before. 

“Its so nice to meet you as well, Mr. Carisi,” Rafael replies politely as the giant of a man releases him from his embrace. “Sonny always has such nice things to say about you,” he adds as they’re ushered through the doorway into the home. 

Mr. Carisi lets out a laugh, its loud, and deep, and seems to shake the rafters, and Rafael finds himself even more intimidated. “Bit of a kiss ass, are ya,” he leads them into the kitchen. “You can call me Pa, everyone else around here does, but if that doesn’t suit ‘cha, Dom is fine,” he wraps an arm around his wife as she stands over the stove, stirring a huge pot of sauce and drops a kiss on her head. Its sweet, Rafael can’t help but think, he never saw his parents particularly happy together. 

“Oh Rafael, so glad you could make it,” Mrs. Carisi smiles brightly, waving a wooden spoon around, Sonny flinches next to him, and Rafael has a pretty good idea why, his abuela wielded a similar tool. 

The dinner goes well, and Rafael finds himself relaxing a little. Its hard not to around the big table, with all of Sonny’s sisters there, Tommy, and Gina’s husband, and a couple of Sonny’s aunts and uncles who’s names he can’t quite keep straight. There’s no pretense, no awkwardness. They’re a loud and excitable bunch, all talking over each other, hands gesturing dangerously, and they treat Rafael like he’s been there all along, poke fun at how he eats his pasta, Theresa sitting to his left snaps his suspenders teasingly. Rafael wonders if this is what it feels like to have siblings. He wouldn’t know of course, but it seems like it. 

After the meal, they all stay around the dinner table chatting. Rafael thinks its strange because every other dinner he’s ever been to has retired to a living room after the meal, but the Carisi clan doesn’t seem to want to pause the conversation long enough to relocate. Mrs. Carisi clears the table, and Rafael stands up to help her, but he’s shooed away with a “guests don’t help.” No room for discussion. The dinner plates are soon replaced by trays of cookies and cannoli, and everyone gets a little mug of espresso. 

They ask Rafael about his job, about his family, about Sonny. He takes the questions in stride, trying to deflect away from the difficult parts of his childhood, and tells them instead about his grandparents, about playing dominos every Friday night, about his Abuela’s ropa vieja, and he promises to show Mrs. Carisi how to make it. 

Sonny finally decides its time to leave around his fourth cannoli, announcing unceremoniously that its late, and he’s stuffed, and that they have to be into work early in the morning. And Rafael has never been hugged by so many people in such a short time as they try to escape out the door. 

Mr. Carisi walks them out, but lays a hand on Rafael’s shoulder telling Sonny to go on ahead. A look of concern flickers across the detective’s face, and Rafael is immediately intimidated again, but Sonny is apparently content leaving him to the wolves and walks to the end of the driveway. 

“Forgive me if I’m outta line,” Mr. Carisi starts, and Rafael’s brows furrow, “I’m glad Sonny has you. You seem like you’re the stability he needed to get his shit together,” eloquence must be a Carisi family trait. “But I couldn’t help but notice you didn’t talk about your family much. You don’t have ta share with us or anything, but Sonny loves you, and that makes you just as much a part of our family. So if you need anything, really, let us know.” 

Rafael is stunned, practically speechless. Which says something, coming from the quick witted trial attorney. Sure he’s met Mrs. Carisi before, and Bella. But to have Mr. Carisi welcome him in like that, no questions asked, just because of how Sonny feels about him. Rafael is unfamiliar with this kind of acceptance, and he swallows a lump in his throat. “Thank you,” he ducks his head, “that really means a lot.”

Mr. Carisi envelops him in another hug, this one substantially less intimidating, and shoos him off to join Sonny at the foot of the driveway. “What was that about,” Sonny asks with a smile, but Rafael can hear the tinge of concern in his voice. 

“Oh, nothing,” Rafael shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he adds, lacing his fingers between Sonny’s. Rafael has never been one for any amount of PDA, even though Sonny loves it, so Sonny doesn’t ask questions, just savors the moment. 

Two months later, Rafael’s car breaks down. He doesn’t drive it much unless he’s heading out of the city, but its an expensive, vintage thing, and he knows that its going to cost way more than he wants to spend to get it fixed. “Call my dad,” Sonny suggests as he watches Rafael flip through the phonebook at the kitchen island in Rafael’s apartment, biting back his comment about how geriatric Rafael is to even own a phonebook. 

“What?” 

Sonny rolls his eyes. “My dad’s a mechanic, I’ve told you that before,” he closes the fridge and leans across the island, looking at Rafael with the sort of smile that highlights his dimples and makes Rafael’s knees weak. “Give him a call, I’m sure he’ll fix it for you, probably for free, too.” He takes a sip from the water bottle with an annoying note of swagger. 

“I wouldn’t want to bother,” Rafael shrugs, “I can pay a mechanic.”

Sonny shakes his head, “you really should call. My pa likes to feel needed. He’s always doing this and that at my apartment, or for my sisters. He’ll like that you thought to ask him.” 

“Can you ask?” Rafael grimaces at how childish his request sounds, but the idea of calling Sonny’s father and asking for a favor is a little bit more than he can handle. 

“Come on counselor, you’re a big boy. I’ll text you his number, I gotta head to the station,” Sonny drops a kiss on Rafael’s cheek before heading to the door. 

His phone vibrates only a few seconds later. A text from Sonny, **Pa Carisi.**

When finally musters up the courage to call, Mr. Carisi seems thrilled. He offers to send a truck to pick up the car and bring it back to his garage on Staten Island, but Rafael insists on paying to have it towed there. He can only bring himself to accept so much charity. It’s a Saturday afternoon when Rafael rides with the tow truck driver to drop off the car, a 1967 Chevelle SS in cherry red. Mr. Carisi looks impressed when he takes a look at the car. 

“Isn’t she a beauty,” he remarks. “My first car was a Chevelle, a few years earlier though.” Mr. Carisi’s crew pushes the car into the garage, and Rafael shoves his hands into his pants pockets, he doesn’t know much about cars. “I sort of figured you as a Prius driver.” The towering man chuckles. 

“Cubans love their retro cars,” Rafael quips back, earning a genuine belly laugh from the Italian senior. 

“That they do.”

Several months later, Sonny watches a rapist fall to his death, still gripping the leather glove that had slipped off the perp’s hand when Sonny tried to save him. Sonny shows up at Rafael’s apartment choking back sobs. Rafael leads him into the apartment and sits down on the couch, pulling Sonny into his lap. He doesn’t say anything, lets the sobs wrack Sonny’s lanky frame as he runs his fingers through rain drenched curls, pressing kisses to his forehead. 

Sonny seems off after that, and Rafael doesn’t want to push. He knows that what Sonny went through is difficult to cope with, even for a seasoned detective, but he doesn’t know how to help. He scrolls through his phone contacts before hovering his thumb over one, Pa Carisi. Its an impulse decision really, but he calls. 

“Rafael!” A warm greeting. “What can I do for you?” 

Rafael spills his guts to Mr. Carisi, explains what Sonny had gone through, that he had tried to save one of their perps, but that he had slipped out of Sonny’s hand. He tells Mr. Carisi that he thinks Sonny feels responsible for the man’s death, even if he was a rapist, that Sonny has stopped going to church on Sundays even when they have the time off, that Rafael doesn’t know what to do and doesn’t know how to help him because he thinks Sonny is struggling. 

Mr. Carisi listens calmly, he doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t get impatient while Rafael lays out all of his worries and concerns. When Rafael finally takes a breath, Mr. Carisi finally speaks. “Sonny has always been a sensitive kid, but he doesn’t know how to ask for help. You can’t let him fester, but don’t approach him like you’re telling him what to do.” Rafael takes in another breath. “Tell him that you’re worried about him, that you think maybe seeing a counselor might help, he’ll probably make the joke that he’s already seeing you,” Mr. Carisi chuckles lightly, “but tell him you’re serious, and that you’re worried.”

Rafael thanks him for the advice, glad to have someone who won’t immediately be at the apartment fussing like Mrs. Carisi, or his own mother would. Glad to have someone who won’t put Sonny on desk duty if Rafael admits he’s not okay. “Thank you for talking to me, son, you can always call me.” Mr. Carisi adds before hanging up. Rafael can feel the lump rising in his throat, and he’s sure its probably just the way Mr. Carisi talks to people, but it gets to him anyway. 

He takes the advice though, and Sonny makes the joke that Mr. Carisi said he would, and Rafael laughs a little bit louder than he normally would at a dumb joke like that one, but Mr. Carisi was right, and Sonny decides to see a therapist. The change isn’t immediate, but its noticeable. And several Sundays later, Sonny asks Rafael to go to church with him, so Rafael knows the worst is over. 

Rafael calls Mr. Carisi again before Christmas. Sonny has been moping around the house for the past week, ever since he found out that he has to be in the station on Christmas, his favorite holiday. Usually he goes to his family house on Staten Island on Christmas eve for the vigil, and festa dei sette pesci. They all eat until they’re stuffed, and all of his siblings and cousins get to open a gift, always a pair of pajamas to wear that night. They wake up early and eat biscotti and drink coffee while all of his younger cousins, and his cousins’ kids open up their stockings. They go to mass, and then finish up with the presents before Christmas dinner. 

Its Sonny’s favorite time of the year, even better than his birthday, so he’s upset that he’ll miss it this year. Rafael tells Mr. Carisi this, tells him he’s not sure what do to because nothing seems to be perking Sonny back up, but Mr. Carisi already has an idea. 

Sonny returns to the station after interviewing a potential lead. It hadn’t gone well, which Sonny had expected anyway since it was Christmas eve and no body was particularly interested in talking to a detective on the night before Christmas. He has a mountain of paperwork to get through on his desk though, so he knows there’s no point in trying to duck out early, the lieutenant would have his head. 

But when he walks through the doors, he can’t even see his desk. They’ve all been pushed aside, and there’s a row of card tables lined up in the middle of the bullpen, covered in a lace table cloth that he recognizes all to well. The tables are straining under the weight of trays and trays of food, all of his favorites, he can tell as the smell hits his face like a wall. His sisters are all there, and his parents and grandma too, some of the cousins, Fin, and Amanda, even Liv is there, sitting around the table chatting. Rafael is the first one to look up and see Sonny. 

“Oh there you are, we were expecting you half an hour ago,” Rafael smiles brightly, but Sonny’s jaw just drops open. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t think there are enough words in the English language to convey exactly what he’s feeling anyway. “Are you okay?” Rafael asks after a few moments, because there are tears welling up in Sonny’s eyes. 

“Was this your idea?” Sonny’s smiling through the tears and Rafael feels a wave of relief wash over them, happy tears, not sad tears. 

“Sort of, and your father’s,” Rafael smiles, guiding him over to the makeshift table, everyone chorusing their hellos and their “can we eat now”s. Sonny won’t dare kiss Rafael in front of the family, and the squad, he knows Rafael would hate that, but they sit shoulder to shoulder, and Sonny reaches out to entwine their fingers under the table. 

“This is fantastic,” Sonny proclaims, “I’m so hungry the rest of you are gonna have to call this the feast of two and a half fishes.” He’s smiling, back in his element, and Rafael seeks out Mr. Carisi’s gaze, mouthing a “thank you” inaudibly. Mr. Carisi just gives him a knowing nod. 

Its almost six months later when Rafael finally reaches out to Mr. Carisi again. He doesn’t call this time though, just calls an uber to take him to Staten Island. It’s a Sunday morning, and Sonny’s still at church, and will have to work after, but Rafael has the day off. The Carisi’s, he’s sure will also be at church, but the drive certainly isn’t a quick one, and he hopes that by the time he arrives, they’ll be home. He pays the uber driver with a hundred-dollar bill when he spots both cars in the driveway up to the Carisi home, and he takes the time to appreciate it. This is where Sonny grew up, where he took his first steps, said his first words, broke his arm way more times than any child should. Rafael clenches and unclenches his hands. It’s a mild summer day but his palms are sweaty and his tie feels too tight around his neck. 

This is it. 

Here goes nothing. 

He walks up to the door, and freezes for a second, not sure if he should knock or ring the bell. He elects for the latter and listens to the chimes ring through the house, alerting the residents to his presence. No turning back now. 

Mr. Carisi looks surprised when he opens the door to find the anxious ADA. “Rafael, were we expecting you?” He asks, but there’s no hostility in his voice, just confusion. “Come on in.” He doesn’t wait for a response to invite Rafael into the living room. Rafael likes that, even showing up unannounced they invite him in with no question. 

“No, I won’t take up too much of your time, I just wanted to talk to you and Mrs. Carisi,” he explains as Mr. Carisi gestures for him to take a seat. 

“Of course son, what seems to be the issue?” Mr. Carisi takes a seat in his armchair, over stuffed and well worn, and Mrs. Carisi shuffles in from the kitchen. 

“Are you going to stay for lunch?” She asks, but sits down on the couch next to him. 

“That’s alright, Ma’am,” Rafael shakes his head, he doesn’t give her a chance to respond, he knows if he doesn’t get this out quick he’s going to lose his resolve. “I know you both are very religious, and I know that religion is important to Sonny,” he begins, he’s recited this in his head a thousand times but the words still don’t come out right. “I know your church won’t allow it, that it won’t be recognized in the eyes of God, but I love your son very much, and I would really like your blessing to ask him to marry me.” The words are out of his mouth now, he can’t take it back, so he sits in silence, waiting for some sort of reaction. 

Mr. Carisi rises from his chair, slow and sure, and Rafael has never been so acutely aware of the man’s height as this moment. But he crosses the room, and Rafael rises to meet him before he’s engulfed in a giant, consuming hug. “Of course, Rafael. Of course you have our blessing. The church may be a bit behind the times, but I’m sure that God understands.”

Rafael isn’t sure what he expected, he had gone through dozens and dozens of worst case scenario options. 

“You’re already like a son to us,” Mr. Carisi adds. 

Rafael’s father had never really been a father to him, even when he was alive. But somehow, in just a short amount of time, Dominick Carisi Senior had certainly made up for that.


End file.
